Infinity
by sherlocksmoonlightsonata
Summary: HarryxMuggle!OC Friendship. Claire Buckley, a muggle girl of Little Whinging, Surrey, is surrounded by a vortex of noise unexplainable, when, out of nowhere, her heart appears before her, laying his life on the line for something even more unexplainable. When her world crashes down around her, will any of the little things mean anything?
1. Part One

_**PART ONE**_

All Claire could hear was a splitting screech in her ear, and the sound of her own heavy breathing. As she staggered to the ground, she fell backwards and was suddenly met with a hundred, no – a thousand, a _million_ lights, glittering and pulsing through a silky navy curtain. She couldn't help but think about how beautiful this small, but exceptionally phenomenal slice of infinity above her was. It drowned the pain. It cured the wounds, at least in her mind, and a smile burst across her face, blood curdling to the surface to escape and see the beauty for itself.

Claire left this world with only one regret – that she never told that person, who was responsible for lighting up her whole world, just like the sky, just how much he meant to her. She'd have given the all the stars in the sky to see him again, but the world was still bitter and cruel in those last waking moments, even as the stars glistened above.

In just a flash of green, Claire Buckley was gone.

"We could spend a lifetime and a half sitting in this very spot and never count all of the stars in the sky."

"Yes, Claire, but that would get boring, wouldn't it? Ow! What was that for?"

A lanky, dark haired teenage boy, hoisted upon a rotting, wooden fence in the middle of nowhere, suddenly found himself nursing his arm, as a short, caramel-haired girl rolled her eyes, a smirk lighting up her eyes as she focused back on the star-blotted sky above them.

"Great!" the girl huffed as swung back dramatically to hang upside from the splintering wood. "You made me lose count, Potter!"

Harry Potter chuckled at his Muggle partner-in-crime, who had moved into the house neighboring the Dursley's between his second and third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "You were never going to count them all anyway, Claire."

Although Claire knew nothing about the Wizarding World, Harry knew enough of the Muggle world for the two to become quick friends. Now, as Harry approached his fifth year, and another nine months away from the only thing good about his stay at the Dursley's, he found himself spending more and more time with the short girl.

"Hey, Haz!" Claire grinned even more, if possible, at the use of the nickname that only she ever used. "Pull me up?"

Harry sighed, playfully of course, and gave the girl a hand. Once upright, legs dangling from the fence rather than the upper half of her body, she shot back onto her feet, still grinning at the boy from her semi-adventurous escapades on the fence. As usual, she was off almost instantly, skipping back towards the lights of town. Harry had never met anyone like Clarie before – the Weasley Twins perhaps came close, but Claire wasn't one to be tied down to anything in particular for very long. She often told Harry that, even though they had only spent six months together at the most over the years, he was her longest friend, even just counting those few months. It wasn't like Claire was a horrible person, although she was quick to anger when she didn't get what she wanted – she was just so hard to keep up with, between her interests and her wishes, she could never fully or completely commit to anything, and that extended into her friendships.

Harry supposed he was the exception, but he found it easy to indulge the caramel-haired girl for the few months of the year that he could. He wasn't Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived to her, nor the ward the Dursley's had been charged with reluctantly fourteen years ago, that was a burden to their image. Harry Potter was simply _Harry_ to Claire Buckley.

Earlier this summer, in his first week back with the Dursley's, Claire had come storming into Number 4, her caramel hair in a frizz from the weather, with a wild look in her dark, almost black eyes. Harry had not been permitted to leave the house by the Dursley's at all that week, since returning from school, and it was driving the girl crazy. In the end, she had waited impatiently for the Dursley's to leave for the supermarkets that morning, before barreling in to save Harry from going stir-crazy. She pulled Harry out through the front door she'd just barged in through, leaving Harry with only one hand and barely a second to pull on his sneakers and down the last of his orange juice.

They spent half the day throwing and skimming rocks along the stream from a new, small and rotting bridge Claire had found on another one of her midnight strolls. She was a chronic insomniac, but you wouldn't know unless she told you – Harry was constantly exhausted just watching her exert so much energy, in every single thing she ever did. But somehow, she made Harry less sullen – she gave him a spark the he'd only ever felt before playing Quidditch, flying through the air.

By the time Harry caught up with the fast-paced girl, she was perched on the top of the slide in the park near their houses, her legs swinging from the sides of the red plastic, much like they had been moments ago over the rotting wooden fence panels, almost a mile from her current position. As Harry approached, he almost believed that the girl on the slide _wasn't_ Claire, as a solemn look passed over her features and settled into every part of her. Her jaw tensed, her legs stopped swinging and her eyes glistened with the beginnings of tears, the like of which Harry had never seen her before, and he felt the pain shoot through himself as he looked up at the girl.

"Claire?" Harry's voice was almost a whisper, as something akin to shock rippled through him. "What's wrong?"

Claire let out a huff of air, a grim smile passing across her face as she shook her head at the boy. She flinched around, sliding down the slide and bolting to the swings across the park, immediately kicking up her legs and furiously swinging. Harry reached her and she stopped, but her crying only increased tenfold, and Harry felt the weight of the world on his shoulders once more, as a dark emotion he'd never imagined coursed through the Muggle girl in front of him.

"Claire," Harry held out his hand to the girl for the second time that night, and she took it once more, slowly getting to her feet and falling into the arms of her best friend, where she sobbed into his favourite jacket. Harry felt tears prick at his own eyes just watching her, _feeling_ her breakdown in his arms in a way Harry never imagined she could, or ever would.

After a while, her shaking softened and her crying subsided. Harry moved them to the park bench by the swings, sitting her down, her head still buried in his shoulder. One they'd sat down, Claire took a steadying breath and moved away from the boy, folding her arms across her own body in a gesture of comfort.

"Sorry, Harry."

"Never mind, Claire. Talk to me."

"It's Dad. He has cancer."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Is it bad?"

"Very. Mum thinks he's going to die."

"Do you?"

"I don't know. That's not the worst of it."

"Oh," Harry really had no idea how to comfort Claire anymore than he already had, except let her talk, if she wanted.

"We're moving."

" _Oh_ ," Harry really had no idea what to say now. Harry would give all of his money in Gringotts to leave Little Whinging, Surrey, right now, even without Claire, but he knew how much this small slice of friendship meant to Claire. He was her best friend, and Harry would say she was definitely one of his too, but any chance of a life outside of the Summer with her was asking too much, of the world and of the Muggle teenager herself. It was dangerous enough for him to even be near her in the face of the oncoming darkness of Lord Voldemort, but he knew when he eventually left the Muggle World for good, he'd have to leave her behind too.

They both thought they had a few years left in this.

"Yeah. Dad needs a lot of treatment."

"Oh."

"It's only into the city, but-"

"I know."

"It's hard enough seeing you now what with the Dursley's-."

"I know."

"And I'd really like to think we'll stay friends and everything but we both know that-"

"I KNOW!" Harry roared, the Gryffindor lion inside bubbling to the surface as he stood from the bench, running his hands through his already messy dark strands. He watched as Claire visibly flinched, pulling her knees to her chest as she watched him through her long lashes. "I know, Claire! I get it, okay? I know you."

"Yeah, I know," Claire whispered into her knees with a sigh.

Harry stopped pacing back and forth, removing his hands from his hair, sitting back beside the girl after a while. She slowly unwrapped herself from her knees and moved back to rest on Harry's shoulder, the pair closer than they'd ever been before, even in what was to be one of their last moments together. Harry wrapped himself around her instead, his head easily resting on top of hers, the two breathing in sync.

Claire knew she couldn't commit to Harry and the friendship that they had created together from miles and miles away. The only reason she'd stuck around him so long was because he was just there, and even though she loved the messy-haired teenager like a brother, she couldn't imagine this friendship moving with her. She never understood why she was so nonchalant about the world and what she did, but she just was. That's who she was – she was like a cloud, in that sense. She didn't really where she was or what she was doing, how big or small she was in any moment – she just was, and she was okay like that.

Until now.

She could feel it as she detangled herself from Harry, that no matter how much she did care for him, she could only take memories with her, no matter how incredibly amazing those memories were. Harry could see it in her eyes, and it broke him to know that she could cut him out of her life, just like that, like she had done to so many people, places and things before him. The only constant in her life was her parents, and Harry realized with a jolt that even _that_ was in jeopardy for the girl.

Never had Harry wished to truly be her brother more than he had in that moment.

The pair parted ways that day for the second last time.


	2. Part Two

**_PART TWO_**

Harry watched through the glass window of the living room at Number 4, as the truck doors slammed shut on the furniture that belonged to Claire and her parents. Claire was standing in the front yard, facing the truck, the sun beating down through her hair, making it shine like liquid gold. She was more still in that moment than Harry had ever seen her be in the last few years, and that worried the messy-haired wizard to no end. Well, an end would be the pair of them running away from everything and hiding in Malaysia for the rest of their lives or something, but that clearly was not the best course of action for an already-hunted wizard and his exceptionally flighty counterpart.

Harry remembered back to the previous summer, when Claire had become completely and utterly obsessed with an Irish punk band, at only fourteen, and had run off to Dublin, somehow, after both Harry and her parents refused to allow her to go, or at least accompany her to the neighbouring country, just to see a show at a dingy, dirty pub. Claire herself knew the risks, it was simply in her nature to do as she wished, whenever she wanted to, no matter how terrified she had made her parents, and Harry for that matter. Claire was "grounded" for a week after that incident, but it didn't really stick, which is probably why her parents hadn't made it the entire summer to start with. Claire had been furious with Harry for not accompanying her, but she was even more furious after Harry explained the consequences she had left behind with the people that cared about her. They didn't talk for four days – well, Claire didn't talk to Harry for four days, Harry yelled at her over the back fence to get over it countless times across the few days. The Dursley's denied him dinner and breakfast the next day after that incident, for it attracted a "considerable amount of attention," according to his Uncle.

There were many instances after that of Claire running off into the open without Harry by her side, especially while he was off at school, but this summer had been different. Claire and Harry had clashed many times over the last month, especially when Harry, much to his own chagrin at letting the girl wonder off on her own, was unable to accompany the girl and her escapades. However, the pair's friendship always returned to Privet Drive.

Claire was leaving, and it hurt her more than she ever thought it would to stand their, staring at the metal vehicle moving her entire life away from the one place where she finally felt like she belonged.

Claire Buckley belonged beside Harry Potter.

She knew they were from two different worlds, two different families and of two completely different and almost opposing personalities. Don't ask how she knew, but she knew Harry wasn't the _same_ as her, personalities beside. He was different to his own family, and he was different to any other person Claire Buckley had ever met in her life. He was humble, caring and instinctive, with a splash of adventure that Claire often took advantage of to indulge her own impulsive needs. They never talked about school, or their hobbies – family, yes, but they were often so absorbed in the moment _together_ that they rarely needed anything or anyone else. But there was always something _else_ , something that Claire knew she'd never be able to have with Harry – she could see it in his eyes. Or, she could see it _missing_ in his eyes.

Claire Buckley tried very hard to convince herself that this move was the best ting for her heart.

It crushed Harry more than he thought it would to see the girl's entire life being loaded on a truck, and it hurt even more when the girl turned towards Number 4 from her vantage point in her own front yard, catching Harry's green gaze almost instantly. For only the second time in the life of their friendship, Harry witnessed the tell-tale glistening of tears in Claire's eyes as she smiled, gave a wave and hauled herself into the truck.

By the time Harry bolted through the living room, down the hallway and into the front yard, the truck – Claire – was too far gone.


End file.
